Page 24 of The Naiad's Lover

Grumbling, I bent my knees, hesitating when it reached my chin.

“Close your eyes if you like. Dip your face in. In and out.”

I did as he said, then wiped the water from my eyes and shot him a raised brow. “What next?”

“Hah. We’re not done here yet. Do it again,” he said. “Do it lots. Get used to it. Do it like this.” He bent his knees again, only instead of leaning forwards, he dropped straight down, disappearing under the water, and came straight back up.

He stood there and made me go under the surface over and over again. He made me blow bubbles. I felt like a fool, but after what must have been twenty minutes of it, I could safely say that I no longer panicked at the sensation of water closing over my head, and I was even eager to proceed.

And proceed we did.

Once I was used to being under the water, and to holding my breath and staying under for as long as I could, he showed me how to float.

Unlike Sayan, who had wanted me to float on my back, to admire the vast emptiness of the sky above me as I was cradled by the water around me, Ral told me to tip forwards, he supported my chest and stomach as I spread my arms and let my legs rise, and it was…itwaseasy.

How could I worry about my head going below the surface if I started with it there in the first place?

We were both smiling with triumph when he reluctantly said that it was time to wrap it up for the day.

“Now that you’ve got your confidence,” he said as we towelled off briskly, “you can practice floating, on your front and on your back, and next time, we can move on to doggy paddle.”

“I’d like that, Ral, thank you,” I said, buttoning up my shirt. “You’re an excellent teacher.”

Ral grinned at me, pleased.

After his initial fussing, Sayan hadn’t shown himself once for the duration of the long lesson. Ral and I returned to the cabin, shared a hearty lunch of cold pies with bread, apples, and cheese, and Ral rushed off home with a promise to return tomorrow.

Afternoon turned to evening and still there was no sign of Sayan.

In the end, I went back to the lake in search of him. I found him sitting on the shore, staring glumly out across the quiet water.

He must have been sitting for some time, as his long, thick hair was completely dry, shifting in the gentle breeze. The setting sun gilded him, lighting the magpie iridescence in his deep green hair and casting a soft rose-gold wash over his warm olive skin.

He knew I was approaching but he didn’t look at me. Not when I came to stand at his side, and not even when I sat down beside him.

Instead, he leaned his upper body towards me until our shoulders were touching, and tried to drop his head on my shoulder. He tutted. He was, of course, too tall to do it.

I wrapped an arm around his narrow waist and smoothed my hand over his midriff, stroking gently before letting it rest there.

“I am jealous,” he said after a while. “I think.”

“Are you?”

He nodded, and moved with that sudden and beautiful grace to kneel before me. His eyes were dark on mine.

“Oh, Sayan,” I said softly, and cupped his cheek.

He swallowed visibly. “I do not like it.”

“That’s all right.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is. You can’t help how you feel. You’re allowed to not like something.”

“You are not angry at me for it?”

I pulled him in and kissed his uncertain pout. “No.”

---